


Wrong

by CrashDevil (cjdevlin19)



Series: Millie Winchester's Wincest Tales [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Half-Sibling Incest, Multi, Southern Belle, sister wincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-11-05 18:34:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11019174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjdevlin19/pseuds/CrashDevil
Summary: Mid season 7, the Winchester bros. meet an attractive woman in a roadhouse.Based on a request: I love your Marion fics! Have you ever considered doing a sister wincest?I couldn't do that to Marion, so I created another sister AU.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"Mind if I sit?" She asked. As soon as she was sitting across from him, Dean got lost in her green eyes. "So, y'all ain't from around here, huh? That ain't a Georgia accent.""No. We're passing through." Sam answered."How long y'all gonna be in town?""However long we want." Dean answered, leaning forward."Oh, so you're transient.""Only by definition." Dean's tongue darted out to lick his lips as she took another drink."Oh, I don't have a problem with that. My daddy was, too. He said he was a travelin' salesman, but he was really a hustler. A conman. So, he either got sent upstate for credit card fraud or somebody killed him. Hope you boys ain't the same. I'm not really in the mood to get conned.""Yeah? What are you in the mood for?" Dean asked, suggestively."Well, ask me again at the end of the night, we'll see what I'm up for." She responded with a smirk.





	1. Brain Bleach

She was hot. Like, the hottest woman Dean had ever seen and he had seen, and screwed, some very hot women. Dean and Sam had both gravitated their eyes toward her as soon as they entered the roadhouse. She was tall, curvy, and buxom, with dark blond hair in a high ponytail. She was wearing tight blue jeans, a tight red tank top and honest-to-goodness cowgirl boots, leaning over the bar with a glass in her hand and a smile on her lips. "She looks like she stepped straight out of a CMT video." Dean whispered as they walked past and settled in a booth in the back corner.

They both stared in her direction, watching as she expertly waved off the rednecks who were trying to get her attention and slammed down a brown liquor like it was water. There was something magical about watching her turn them down with a laugh that was so entrancing that the rednecks weren't even mad at the rejection. Dean waved over a brunette waitress, whose nametag said 'Kate'. He pointed at the blond. "What's she drinkin'?"

"Who, Millie? Kentucky bourbon, straight."

"Oh, damn. Be still, my heart." Dean pulled a twenty dollar bill out of his wallet and handed it to the waitress. "Could you send her another one, on us? The good stuff."

The waitress smiled, knowingly, then walked away. It was only a couple minutes before the blond was turning around with a bourbon in her hand, looking to see who had sent her the drink. She raised an eyebrow as her eyes fell on Sam and Dean. She sauntered over, hips swaying, crossing the dance floor to stand at the end of their table. "Y'all the ones I got to thank fer this top-shelf bourbon?" Her accent was pure Southern drawl and it just made her more attractive.

"Well, if it's what made you come say 'Hi', I'd say it's worth it." Dean said, with a smirk.

She placed the glass on the table and offered her hand to Sam, then Dean. "Well, it sure is nice to meet you boys. I'm Millie."

"I'm Sam, and this is my brother, Dean."

"And can I say? You do _not_ look like a 'Millie'." Dean said as she picked up the bourbon and took a drink.

"Well, it's 'Mary'." She responded, with a flirty smile. "'Mary Mildred', but my momma thought 'Mary' was too plain and apparently my grandma went by 'Millie', so... it's always been 'Millie'."

"'Apparently'?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. I never met the woman. My daddy wasn't around much and he disappeared completely back in oh-five, so I can't really ask him about my namesake. Mind if I sit?" She asked. As soon as she was sitting across from him, Dean got lost in her green eyes. "So, y'all ain't from around here, huh? That ain't a Georgia accent."

"No. We're passing through." Sam answered.

"How long y'all gonna be in town?"

"However long we want." Dean answered, leaning forward.

"Oh, so you're transient."

"Only by definition." Dean's tongue darted out to lick his lips as she took another drink.

"Oh, I don't have a problem with _that_. My daddy was, too. He said he was a travelin' salesman, but he was _really_ a hustler. A conman. So, he either got sent upstate for credit card fraud or somebody killed him. Hope you boys ain't the same. I'm not really in the mood to get conned."

"Yeah? What _are_ you in the mood for?" Dean asked, suggestively.

"Well, ask me again at the end of the night, we'll see what I'm up for." She responded with a smirk.

"Woof." Dean said, under his breath, as he took a drink of his beer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They spent the night flirting and drinking with Millie. As it got closer to last call, Millie pulled the two of them to the dance floor and let herself be sandwiched between them as she danced. They were just drunk enough to not care about the fact that everyone in the roadhouse could see them practically dry-humping the woman from both sides. Millie's ass rubbed against Sam's erection as she swayed to the music. Dean had his mouth on Millie's neck, licking and sucking at her pulse point.

"Last call!" The bartender shouted as the music cut out.

The brothers pulled back, giving Millie a questioning look. She just smiled. "You boys ain't ready to call it a night, are you?"

"Take the party back to your place?" Sam asked, his voice low and raspy.

Millie giggled, grabbing Sam's hand and pulling him toward the door. Dean rushed ahead, unlocking the Impala and sliding into the driver's seat. Sam pulled Millie into the backseat, placing her on his lap so he could grind up against her as he kissed her deeply and groped her breasts through her tank top. "Where'm I going, sweetheart?" Dean asked, urgently.

She tore her mouth away from Sam's prompting him to pull her shirt up and attack her nipples with his tongue through her lace bra. She moaned, closing her eyes. "Um, right on Main. Right on Hawthorne. It'll be on the left. It's 4100 A." Dean pulled out of the parking lot, the tires screeching. She moaned again as Sam moved his mouth to the other nipple. "I don't usually do this, you know. One night stands an' definitely don't take two men but... hmmmm, y'all... y'all are so damn...."

"Don't usually share." Sam said, unhooking her bra so that he could get better access to her breasts. "But you're worth it. Can't wait to get you out of those jeans, taste you."

They left her bra in the backseat, just pulling her tank back down over her chest as they got out of the Impala in front of the townhouse that was 4100 A Hawthorne Street. She pulled her keys and fumbled to get them in the lock as Dean was suddenly pressed against her back, unbuckling her belt and working on the zipper to her skintight jeans. She could feel his erection pressing against the crest of her ass. When she got the door open, the three of them pushed in, clothing dropping to the hallway floor as they moved toward the living room. Millie ran her hands over Dean's bare chest as Sam pulled her jeans down her legs. Sam's hand was immediately in her thong underwear, teasing her clit and making her moan and shiver. Dean toed his boots off and pulled his pants down, stepping out of them, quickly. "Get her on the couch, Sammy."

Sam obliged, moving her to the couch without removing his hand from her underwear. Dean pulled her boots and jeans off, then grabbed the waistband of her thong and deposited it on top of her boots. Sam pushed his hand further, dipping his middle finger inside of her, which made her yelp. He wasted no time fucking her with his finger and adding another finger as he pumped quickly and Dean pumped his hand up and down his length. Sam leaned down, kissing her deeply as he fucked her with his fingers. She moaned into his mouth, scooting back on the couch. "Not enough room on the couch." She mumbled against his lips. "Bed-bedroom." Sam groaned, pulling his fingers out of her and picking her up. He carried her down the hall and into the bedroom, dropping her on the bed.

Dean jumped onto the bed, slipping in-between her legs as Sam started to undress himself beside her bed. Dean immediately attacked her clit with his mouth, licking at it and rolling it between his lips. As her moans filled the room, Sam pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it. It landed on her bedside table, bringing his attention to a picture. It was a faded Polaroid, pinned to a small framed corkboard. Sam leaned forward to examine it and his breath caught. "Millie? Who's this?"

"Huh?" She asked, confused and frustrated as Dean pulled away to see what caught his brother's attention.

"This picture. Who is this... this picture?" He asked, pointing to the Polaroid. Dean squinted to see the picture from the foot of the bed, and cleared his throat involuntarily as he was filled with confusion, too.

She flipped over and sat up, slightly. "Uh, that's me and my Daddy."

Sam reached down and zipped up his jeans as Dean slipped off the bed, both of them feeling a bit nauseated. "Your dad's name wouldn't happen to be 'John', would it?" Dean asked.

Millie sat up, completely, crossing her legs and covering her chest with her arms. "Ye- how'd you know?"

"Ugh. You got liquor? I need liquor." Dean said, stomping out of the bedroom as Sam cleared his throat.

"You should get some clothes on. This... this isn't gonna happen." He said, grabbing his shirt from the nightstand before following Dean out of the bedroom.

Millie re-entered her living room, wearing a pair of sweat pants and a large black tee. Sam and Dean were completely dressed, boots, coats and all, sitting on her couch and passing a bottle of her bourbon between them. "Either one o' y'all wanna tell me what the heck jus' happened, I'd be much obliged."

"Don't usually get into last names with roadhouse chicks, but man in the picture..." Dean didn't look up from the bottle in his fist. "John Winchester?"

"Yeah?" Millie was still completely confused.

"That makes you Mary Mildred Winchester?" Dean continued, handing the bottle off to Sam, but still not looking at her.

"Yeah?"

"We're Sam and Dean... _also_ Winchester." Sam finished, taking two rapid gulps of the bourbon.

Millie blanched. "What?!"

"Our Dad was... a conman who moved us from town to town, named John Winchester. Guess he met your mom about 20 years ago." Sam answered.

"No. No, my Daddy didn't have any other kids."

"You ever ask him? And can you reliably believe anything that man told you your whole life?" Dean growled.

Sam looked up, watching the existential crisis flowing across Millie's face. Even knowing she was his sister, he couldn't help but feel attracted to her, so he looked away. "But... wh-why wouldn't he..." She reached forward and wrenched the bottle out of Sam's hands, taking several gulps. "I... what happened to him? Where is he?"

"Hate to be the one to-" Dean started, but Sam interrupted.

"He died. In oh-six. It was a car accident."

Millie exhaled sharply. "Oh. Wow. Thought he woulda met with the business end of a gun. Guess dead is dead, regardless." She said, sadly. She shook her head and took another drink. "I'm... we're gonna need more." She handed the bottle to Dean and shuffled into the kitchen.

Sam looked around as she dug into the cabinets. A flash of white caught his eye, so he stood, crossing over to the window near the front door. A neat line of salt graced the windowsill. "Why is there salt on the window?" He called out, causing Dean to raise his head.

She shuffled back into the living room, a bottle of Jack Daniels in her hand. "You don't know about the salt? You grew up with Daddy, right? He didn't teach you?"

"Teach us, what?" Dean asked, gruffly.

"You really don't know?"

"No, we know. We wanna make sure that _you_ know what _we're_ thinking." Sam responded.

Millie sighed, taking a drink of the whiskey. "Salt's fer ghosts and demons. Silver's fer werewolves, shifters an' a bunch o' other shit." She said, raising her right hand to force a jingle of her silver charm bracelet, which she'd rubbed across both of their faces while dancing.

"He _told_ you? He didn't tell Adam anything." Sam directed the last bit to Dean.

"Who's Adam?"

"Your _other_ half brother Dad never told anybody about. He's dead." Dean answered, taking a drink of the bourbon.

"Right." Millie took a drink of the bottle in her hand.

"So... are you a hunter?" Sam asked. He was trying to move forward, put everything behind them.

She snorted. "'course I ain't. He taught me enough to not be a victim and tol' me straight up that huntin' ain't a woman's job."

"Yeah. That sounds like Dad. Never could get him to see hunting as an equal opportunity calling." Dean sighed. "So... When... how old are you?"

"23."

"So, you were born eighty-nine, ninety?" Dean continued.

"Eighty-nine."

"Okay, so... tell us about your relationship with... Dad. He named you?" Dean asked, clearing his throat.

"Yeah. Momma said he insisted." She answered, with a sigh.

"He spend a lot of time with you? Birthdays, Christmases?"

She snorted. "Please. I don't think that man even knew when my birthday is. Definitely never got a present from him." She shook her head and sat on the arm of her couch, balancing the bottle on her knee. "I only met the man a handful of times. He'd show up, randomly, talk his way into Momma's bed again, then he'd take me to breakfast in the mornin'. I think I was, maybe ten, when he gave me the 411 on monsters. Momma knew 'cause he saved her from a skinwalker, that's how they met. So, she taught me how to shoot and... the two other times I saw Daddy, he made sure that I knew how to keep myself safe and that I wouldn't put myself in danger bein' a hunter."

Dean nodded. "Definitely sounds like Dad. Um... can we start over, here?" He stood, setting the empty bourbon bottle on the couch.

She looked up, her emerald eyes sparkling at him. "What d'ya mean?"

"Let's brain bleach the whole thing. Retcon the hell out of it, pretend we've never seen each other naked. Never mention where our tongues have been." There was silence as the other two siblings considered acquiescing. Dean nodded, reaching his hand out. "I'm your half-brother, Dean. Nice to meet you."

Millie took a deep breath and stood, putting the bottle of Jack in her left hand and taking Dean's with her right. "Millie. It's nice to meet you."

Sam chuckled, reaching out to take her hand as soon as she dropped Dean's. "Sam."

"All right. So... You... what do you do for a living?" Dean asked.

"I'm a nurse. You two... are hunters, right? Followin' in Daddy's footsteps?"

"Didn't really have a choice." Dean answered.

"Um... and that... that said, about choice..." Sam started.

"You wanna know if I've stayed a civilian by choice, or because of Daddy's influence."

Dean shrugged. "You're a grown woman who still calls Dad 'Daddy'. It's a legitimate query."

"Well, that's just a Southern thing, honey. You wouldn't understand." She shrugged. "I've thought about it, but I didn't even know where ta start. Dad's the only hunter I ever met."

"Well, now you've met two more. You still interested?" Sam asked.

"In leavin' behind everythin', packin' in with my half-brothers I jus' met to go kill monsters an' save folks all over the country?" She asked, before chuckling. "Where do I sign?"

"You serious? 'Cause we're actually on the way to a possible case in Douglassville. You could come with, see if it's your cup of sweet tea." Dean offered.

Millie smiled. "All right. We can head out in the mornin'? This much alcohol and shock, you know? Probably not good for a 2 hour drive."

"Right. We'll go grab a motel room and pick you up in the morning." Dean said, stepping toward the door.

"Y'all can stay here. I can get some pillows and blankets outta the linen closet. Ain't no reason to waste someone else's money on a motel when you got family in town." She said, setting her bottle on the little dining table as she walked toward the closet in the hall. She handed two blankets and two pillows to Sam with a smile. "I'll, uh... see y'all in the mornin'." She said, walking into her bedroom and shutting the door behind her.

Sam and Dean looked at each other after they set up their pillows on opposite ends of her sectional couch. "So... I feel like we should be trying to put some distance between us, but I can't bring myself to leave her behind. I mean, Dad fucked her up just as bad as us."

"Not as bad as it would've fucked us up to... you know." Sam whispered.

"Fuck her, yeah." Dean finished, quietly. "And seriously, what kinda God would make our sister so damn irresistible?"

Sam shrugged. "It's actually pretty common, Dean, for people who meet family later in life. Like, adopted kids meeting their parents and... people in situations like ours."

"Wish the man woulda told us. Would've been more careful. How many other siblings do you think we have?" Dean rubbed his hand down his face. "Man, we were so close to..."

"Destroying her. Dean... we gotta stop. Brain bleach, remember?"

"Yep." Dean grunted, pulling his throw blanket over him and lying back. "Still pissed off."

"He's dead, Dean. Being pissed isn't gonna help anything."

"Helps deal with the guilt of muff diving into my sister." Dean mumbled, barely audible as he turned onto his side away from Sam who sighed and closed his eyes, leaving his blanket folded on the back of the couch.


	2. Harder Than It Should Be

They woke to the smell of coffee and bacon. Dean stretched and folded the blanket as Sam collected the pillows and headed toward the linen closet. They headed into the kitchen, stopping to watch Millie as she cooked up a pan of scrambled eggs. She was still in the sweats and tee from the previous night, her hair in a messy bun. She was a completely different kind of sexy in the morning light and her brothers had to force themselves to look away. "Good mornin', y'all. I got Folgers in the pot, bacon in the microwave, and the eggs are gonna be done in about ninety seconds."

"Coffee mugs?" Dean asked, walking into the kitchen and pulling the plate of bacon out of the microwave.

"Right there." Millie answered, pointing to a cabinet with her spatula. Sam moved to grab coffee mugs, quickly filling three of them as Millie put eggs on three plates and carried them to the table. They sat down and ate the food quietly. "So... what's goin' on in Douglassville?"

"Nothing big. Think it might be a ghost possession." Dean answered, his mouth full of food.

"A woman went nuts on her boyfriend, almost killed him. She said some things in a language her boyfriend didn't recognize and she claims she doesn't remember any of it." Sam filled in.

"Could be a cursed object." Millie said, taking a drink of her coffee.

Dean chuckled. "Yeah. Well, we won't know 'til we get there. Sure you wanna come with? Once you start in this life, it kinda becomes... your whole life."

"No friends, really. No family but... _us_." Sam took a drink of his coffee. He didn't want to stifle her if she really had been wanting to rebel against John and become a hunter, but he definitely thought it'd be safer for everyone if she flaked.

"Well, Momma died last year, so I don't have anythin' keepin' me in Warner Robbins 'cept my job an' honestly, it's the most thankless thing I coulda imagined."

"Yeah, you think being a nurse is thankless, you just wait until you save a life and have to leave without anybody ever knowing your name." It was Dean's turn to drink.

"So, you're _really_ okay to just... walk away?" Sam asked. "I mean, I did it, but... I was raised in this."

"I mean... I think I am. Can't know 'til I try, right?" She said, finishing off her eggs and reaching for another piece of bacon.

"Fearless. Yep. Definitely one of ours." Dean said, standing to go get a refill of coffee. "All right, well, we've got equipment in the car, so just dress... sensibly and we'll go check out the crazy lady speaking in tongues."

Her sensible was a pair of bootcut jeans, a baby blue V-neck tee and brown hiking boots. It was simple and sensible and not in the least bit sexy, but on her... Dean told her to grab a coat and an overnight bag, since they weren't sure how long they'd be in Douglassville. She reached for one green jacket on her coat rack, then changed her mind, grabbing a thicker black one. Dean smiled as he took in her look. "Lookie, Sam. Put some plaid on her and call her a hunter. She looks just like one of us." They headed out, Sam sneaking a look at the green jacket on his way out the door. It was a Vietnam-era Marine-issue jacket with 'Winchester' on the badge. It was definitely John's, one Dean had driven himself nuts looking for after John died.

They got a motel in Douglassville and the boys dressed in their FBI suits. "We're gonna head to the jail, talk to Amber. You good to stay here, pull up Google, see if you can find any information on Amber or her boyfriend?" Dean asked, straightening his tie.

Millie nodded, looking away from them and sitting at the small round table. Dean put his laptop on the table in front of her and waved as he and Sam walked out of the room. When they came back 4 hours later, Millie was gone. Dean pulled out his phone and called her. "Where are you?"

"Oh, I got bored o' waitin' 'round so I went to see Amber's boyfriend, Greg, in the hospital. It took a bit o' gabbin' but he told me that Amber started actin' weird after she got tasked with cleanin' out her uncle's house for an estate sale. He told me that the only thing she brought home was a paintin' her uncle did a few years ago. Said it's hangin' up in their den, the same den where she went ape an' started speakin' French."

"Wait, French?" Dean asked, putting the phone on speaker. "Amber said she didn't know any other languages."

"Well, Greg remembered what she said. Guess she said it a couple dozen times. 'Vous ne serez jamais assez bon pour elle.' Pretty much, 'You ain't good enough fer her'."

"You speak French?" Sam asked.

"No. I speak Google Translate. I'm actually at the house, right now, if y'all wanna come meet me."

"Yeah, send us the address. Don't go in without us."

"Wouldn't dream of it, honey. See ya in a few." She said, before the line went dead.

"Did she just solve this case without us?" Dean asked, looking over at Sam.

"Um, maybe. Let's go see about that painting."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the end of the day, the painting had been burned, ridding the world of Uncle Lou's ghost, and they were having a celebratory beer in their motel room. "I wanna say this was beginner's luck, but maybe it's genetics. You did awesome." Dean said, leaning forward to clink his beer against hers.

"I'm sure it's harder on other hunts. I just got to start on an easy one."

"So... knowing that things'll get harder... you wanna come with us? Be a hunter?" Dean asked, taking a drink.

"Of course. I mean, if y'all want to have me... I mean, have me come along." She corrected.

"Yeah! Of course. You're family." Dean answered.

Millie smiled and stood. "I'm gonna walk over to the diner, grab some burgers." She almost bounced out of the room, she was so happy.

Sam sighed, downing the rest of his beer. "I don't think it's a good idea to take her with us, Dean."

"What do you mean? Man, she's _good_. She pretty much solved this _whole_ case by herself. And you know what? With Cas out of commission, it might be a good thing to have a nurse around. She's our sister. I can't think of a single reason to leave her behind. I mean, you were pretty damn gung-ho about teaching Adam."

"Exactly! She's our sister, who we _both_ tried to have sex with." Sam exclaimed in a harsh whisper. "And we both still want to."

Dean gave his best bitch face. "I'm sorry, do you have a problem with willpower, all of a sudden? We've both been through Hell. We can handle bein' around Millie until our bodies catch up to the 'Incest bad' message, okay?" He shook his head. "We are on a low rung right now. Bobby's dead, Cas is 51-50'd, Dick Roman is gonna eat the Earth. All we have is family right now, and we just discovered another branch. Take the branch, Sam."

Sam sighed. "Fine. Still think it's a bad idea."

"Concern noted. I'm fairly confident that we can keep it in our pants, Sammy."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam and Dean shot a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors for who had to share a bed with Millie. Sam was almost positive that Dean would choose Scissors and he was tempted to throw Paper, but he wanted to let them tie a time or two first. Dean threw Paper on the first game, effectively losing and setting himself up to sleep with Millie. Sam couldn't tell if Dean had lost on purpose or not, though, because he immediately started in with complaints of lost space and 'chicks always hog the damn covers'.  Dean grabbed the extra pillow off of Sam's bed and put it between him and Millie. No one had to be told why he felt they needed an extra buffer between them.

Millie changed in the bathroom, while Sam and Dean simply took their boots off and the top layers of flannel. She came out in a pair of sweats and a white shirt, and dropped onto the bed. "I wanna thank you fellas fer takin' me with ya. I know Daddy wouldn'ta wanted ya to, so... just thanks."

"'Course. Just don't make us regret it, sis." Dean said, smiling as he lied down on the bed.

"I'll try my damnedest." She responded, tucking her legs under the comforter and turning her back away from Dean, who followed her motion and turned his back to her.

Dean woke midway through the night to Millie whimpering. He sat up just enough to see that she was still asleep, then lied back down. As the little whiny mewling noises continued, Dean reached over the pillow border and brushed her hair out of her face. She breathed out a content sigh and Dean let his hand rest against her cheek, happy that she'd calmed down and the sounds had stopped. He closed his eyes, fine to let his hand stay there.

Millie's hand covered his, trapping it as she snuggled into his palm. Dean sighed and snuggled closer to the pillow wall. He'd almost fallen back to sleep when Millie forced his hand to move, making his middle finger rest across her lips. He took a deep breath as those soft lips parted and his finger dropped into her mouth. His mind told him to pull his hand back. She was fine, there was no reason to keep in physical contact with her. But the tingle of pleasure that ran across his groin as her tongue began to lave his fingertip in her sleep told him to see how long he could get away with pretending like this wasn't happening. He finally pulled his hand away when the throbbing in his dick got too uncomfortable to handle. As he walked into the bathroom, to quietly jack off in private, it occurred to him that dealing with Millie on a daily basis might be a little more difficult than he'd anticipated.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was difficult for all of them. Millie filled her time reading through John's Journal and questioning them about different monsters. Sam filled his time searching for their next case and Dean filled his time with bars, movies and ' _Busty Asian Beauties_ '. He'd tried to hide the skin mag when he first brought it back to the motel, but Millie found it tucked under his pillow and scoffed. "I've always preferred ' _Penthouse Comix_ '. Stole one from Daddy when I was 7 and absolutely loved it. I've got all 32 issues back at the townhouse." After that, Dean didn't hide his mags or when he pulled up the Asian cartoon porn on his laptop. He did, however, keep to the subs instead of the dubs because he didn't want anyone to know he was watching Japanese incest porn.

It was three weeks into their travels, as the pressure started to get to them, that Sam spun his laptop around to show Dean. "Animal attack about 4 hours from here. Heart missing."

"When's the full moon?" Dean asked, leaning forward to read the article.

"Yesterday, today and tomorrow." Millie answered, immediately.

Sam and Dean exchanged an impressed look, before Dean pulled the keys out of his pocket. "All right. So, werewolf hunt. You up for it, Millie?"

"Are you kiddin' me? O' course, I am! Werewolves!" She jumped up, excitedly. "I mean, human by day, freak animal killing machine by night? I've always wanted to put the silver to a werewolf."

Sam gave Dean a look that said, 'Sounds familiar' then cleared his throat. "Well, you gotta remember that there's a person in the wolf. They might not even know what they are." Sam said, starting to pack.

"Really? How could you _not_ know?"

"It happens." Dean responded, closing Sam's laptop and turning to grab his own bag.

"Well, okay. Guess... maybe I'll keep an open mind." She said, with a small smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean watched as Millie stripped her pistol and cleaned and oiled it. He'd gone to the morgue with Sam, confirming that they were looking for a werewolf, but Millie had stayed behind preparing for the hunt. She pieced the gun back together and placed the gun on the table. "Okay. Couple hours 'til sundown. I'm gonna get a shower, maybe a short nap after." She said, walking into the bathroom.

Dean waited until he'd heard the water running for several minutes before he hung his head and whispered. "Sam, I don't think I can take it, anymore." Dean's head was in his hands, his right leg bouncing nervously.

Sam knew what Dean was talking about without asking. "Okay, Dean. What do we do? Take her back to Georgia?"

"You think that woman would just  _let_ us leave her behind? No." Dean looked up at Sam and took a deep breath. "No, I think the simplest solution is for us to fuck."

"Dean, you _can't_. She's our sister." Sam whispered, sitting across the table from him.

"So?"

Sam's eyebrows furrowed so deeply they almost obscured his vision. "Excuse you?"

"I said, 'So?'. So what, she shares half of our genetics, it's not like we grew up together!" Dean whispered, furiously. "She doesn't _feel_ like our sister. My body is never gonna recognize that, and my brain's no help. It keeps remembering how good her twat tasted and pondering whether she swallows! I can't deal anymore, man."

Sam tsk'd his tongue and sighed. "We've just gotta keep up the willpower, Dean. You're stronger than this."

Dean leaned forward. "Sam, I am telling you that I am going to lose my damn mind if I don't get balls-deep in our little sister and all you can do is tut in disappointment at me, and that's 'cause because you are feeling it, too."

"Dean..."

Dean stood, almost not caring if Millie heard him. "No, Sam. Incest is a _cultural_ taboo only because inbreeding makes fucked up babies. Well, I ain't planning to get her pregnant, are you?" 

"Dean, I'm not planning to touch her, and you shouldn't either. It's wrong." Sam responded, softly.

"'Wrong'. Stealing credit cards is wrong. Hustling pool is wrong. Impersonating the FBI is wrong. Lying to everyone we've _ever_ met is wrong. Everything we do is wrong. It's a fact of our lives." Dean shook his head. "Is this where we draw the line, Sam?"

"We have to draw it somewhere, Dean. I mean... what would Dad say?"

"Fuck  _him._  He's the reason this is happening." Dean sighed, heavily. "Fine. I am going to whatever bar is closest and I'm gonna go screw the first woman who'll let me."

"Dean, we're in the middle of a case."

"You're Mr. Righteousness and Self Control. You and Millie can do it, yourselves." Dean said, grabbing his keys and tossing them at Sam, who caught them, easily.

*************

As Millie and Sam walked through the woods, each had a flashlight in one hand and a pistol loaded with silver in the other. It wasn't hard to track the wolf through the broken branches and trampled leaves. When they caught up to it, a woman with the requisite claws and fangs to warrant them shooting at her with those silver bullets. They missed. Before Millie could get another set of rapid-fire bullets out of her gun, the wolf was behind Sam, swiping its claws across his back. Millie rolled to the left and took another shot, piercing straight into the werewolf's heart. Sam winced as he turned back to Millie, who rushed to him. "It got you twice real deep. Not seein' any bites, though. Come on, I'll grab my kit and we can get those scratches closed."

She helped him to the car and pulled out a first aid kit, grabbing her suture kit. "I didn't think nurses did stitches." Sam groaned out as Millie gently pulled his jacket down his arms.

"Well, I was goin' fer Nurse Practitioner fer a while, before Momma died. NPs can suture. They can do pretty much anythin' a doctor does. I ain't practiced in a couple months, but it can't be any worse than you been gettin' doin' it yerselves."

Sam couldn't argue with that. Nylon thread and dental floss had left him with some horrible scars. She put her mini-flashlight in her mouth and unzipped her suture kit, pulling out a 3/8 circle needle and a small spool of silk thread as Sam pulled his t-shirt off over his head. She poured a bit of whiskey over the first set of scratches and threaded the needle. She put a firm hand on his back, just outside the area of the wounds and he nodded to let her know she should start. As she began pulling the needle through his flesh, he found it difficult to sit still on the edge of the trunk.

"Stop squirmin'! 'less you  _want_ more scars. It's hard enough doin' this by flashlight." She ordered as she moved to his right arm and started on the second set of claw marks. Sam was trying to avoid the feeling he was getting from the little bit of pain mixed with the softness of her fingertips on his bicep and back, but it wasn't working. By the time she had finished sewing up his wounds, Sam was hard. "See how much faster it goes when you let me do my job?"

Sam turned to her and swallowed as she put the suture kit back in the first aid bag. He reached out and took the flashlight from her hand. "Now, I've gotta check you."

She scoffed. "Wolf didn't get me, Sam. I think I'd know." 

Sam reached out, running his hand down her arm, the flashlight beam following along after his fingertips. "Best to check, anyway. Worst thing would be if that werewolf got a fang in you and we didn't even know it." He moved around her, hand gliding across her shoulders and downward. He raised her shirt a little and was encouraged by the breathy gasp she let loose. He raised her shirt past her bra and dropped the flashlight into the trunk next to the shotguns. He pressed himself against her back, both hands resting just under her bra. She leaned her head back as his thumbs pushed underneath the edge of her sports bra. "Tell me to stop. If you tell me to stop, I can." He whispered, his breath coming in heavy and his voice coming out raspy. Millie didn't answer, just reaching down and grabbing the edge of her tee to pull it over her head.

Sam needed no more encouragement, grasping her bra and pulling it over her head. He spun her around, grasping her head and kissing her. His tongue pushed into her mouth and they moaned together. Millie's hands went to Sam's belt, pulling it open as Sam's tongue danced with hers. She pushed his pants and boxers to his knees and wrapped her right hand around his length. She pulled back from Sam's kiss and pumped it gently, staring up into her brother's eyes, before dropping to her knees in the dirt and licking from the base of his balls to his tip. His knees almost buckled when she took him into her mouth as far she could and swallowed. "Fuck, Mill." He groaned, one of his hands burying in her hair and the other grabbing the door of the trunk as she started a rhythm of pumping him with her right hand as she licked, sucked and deep-throated him. He pulled on her hair, slightly and backed away, pulling her toward the backseat.

He pushed her to lie down across the seat, pulling off her boots and tearing her jeans down her legs. He dropped between her legs, hooking one over the front seat to leave her wide open for him to spread her lips with his left hand and dive in, hungrily, licking figure eights across her clit and nibbling on her outer lips as he pushed the middle finger of his right hand into her. She squealed when he curled his finger upward, brushing her g-spot. "Jesus wept, Sam! I'ma die if you don't fuck me soon."

Sam chuckled at the Southern exclamation and leaned up to kiss her, again. He settled between her legs as they kissed, her hands going to his shoulder and the back of his neck as she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him in closer. He reached between them, grabbing his cock and lining it up with her entrance. They both gasped as he began to swivel his hips forward, slowly. When he bottomed out, he stilled for a moment, taking the time to give her several languid, affectionate kisses. He nipped at her jawline, his mind reeling from the sinful pleasure of being inside his little sister, feeling her in a way that no big brother should.

"Don't go too hard. Don't wanna pop yer stitches. I werked hard on 'em." She whispered, breathlessly.

"I'll try, but..." He pulled back, slightly, giving an experimental swivel of his hips. "...if they pop, I'll make it worth our while."

Millie wrapped her arms around his shoulders, resting her hands on each side of her handiwork. She closed her eyes as Sam began moving within her, taking a slow, but hard pace. He pulled out slowly, then slammed back into her, over and over. He reached out, steadying himself with a hand on the back of the front seat and running his other hand over her breasts. "God, Sam. You..."

Sam just grunted, picking up his speed and dragging his hand from her breast to her clit, rubbing his thumb across it until he felt her tense and her walls fluttered around his cock. He pulled back, pumping his dick a few times until he came in spurts all over her stomach. Sam grabbed a towel from the floorboard and wiped his cum off of her, before pulling her into his arms and twisting them so that they were lying together across the backseat, her head resting on his chest. He expected to feel disgusted in himself, revolted that he'd done something so obviously wrong, but all he felt was satiated. As he pressed his lips to the top of Millie's head, he just felt happy. "We should probably get goin'. Dean's gonna come lookin' if we don't get back soon." She whispered, an exhaustion in her voice as she sat up.

That's when the guilt hit. He'd berated Dean for wanting to do what he'd just done. Sam had crossed the line that he'd drawn for them. "We... uh, we can't tell Dean this happened." Sam said, sitting up and pulling his jeans and boxers up.

"Yeah, of course not. He'd be so mad at us. Probably think we're disgustin'." Sam shrugged, sliding out of the back of the Impala. He would let her think that if it kept her quiet. Millie got out, collecting her clothes and redressing. "I don't think we're disgustin'." She said, sitting on the edge of the backseat to put her boots back on.

Sam slammed the trunk closed and walked around in front of her. "I don't, either. I mean, I _did_... before we did it, I thought I was..." He ran his hand through his hair. "I thought I was pretty fucked up to still want you, but... it felt good. It felt right, right?"

She chuckled, finishing the knot on her boot. "Well, right in the wrongest way." She stood, tightening her ponytail against her head. "You know, growin' up I always thought that whole Southerners screwing their family thing was a gross stereotype, but... guess I'm a stereotype."

"Well, I mean... it's not like we grew up together. Our bodies don't recognize that we're related." Sam felt another pang of guilt at using Dean's words.

"Actually, they do." She closed the back door and moved to the front passenger door. "We're genetically congruent so our pheromones work real well on each other and we're just generally attracted to people that are physically similar. Since we didn't grow up together, we didn't develop the reverse sexual imprinting that most brothers and sisters do. Our problem is called 'Genetic Sexual Attraction'. We never got to develop the Westermarck Effect, so we are doomed." She said, dropping into the front seat.

Sam got in behind the steering wheel and looked over at her. "You have a psychology degree?"

"No. Just... researched. Had to know, I mean, had to understand _why_ you were so irresistible to me. I mean, it makes sense, really."

Sam smiled as he pulled the Impala onto the road and drove toward the motel.


	3. Toys and Pie

Dean was sitting on the bed, feet up, laptop across his thighs when Sam and Millie walked in. Dean immediately zeroed in on Sam's hand going to her back as she walked past him into the bathroom for a shower. A white-hot barb of rage hit the back of his neck and radiated across his body as he came to a deduction from the tiny action. 

Sam dropped his gun on the bed and shot a look to Dean as he pulled his jacket off. Anxiety hit him to see his brother glaring at him from the other side of his laptop. He swallowed and looked at his jacket, examining the holes with faux interest. "Gonna need a new jacket." He said, working to keep his emotions out of his voice.

"You  _fucked_ her." Dean accused, quietly.

"What?" Sam looked up, gaining eye contact to try and solidify his next words as the truth. "No, I didn't."

Dean set his laptop aside on the bed and stood, his whole body rigid. "You've avoided touching her for three goddamn weeks, going so far as to hand her a pistol by its muzzle to avoid accidental skin contact. You've kept everything distant and professional, but now... Oh, something sure changed out there in the woods."

Sam opened his mouth to argue but nothing came out. Dean shook his head, his jaw clenching. Sam looked down. "Dean, I-"

"Oh, you son of a bitch." Dean growled.

"Look, I already feel bad enough about-"

"Oh, you do?" Dean stepped closer to him. "You made me feel disgusting. You drew a goddamn line and told me it was wrong to cross it and not 6 hours later, you fuck her?" He took a deep, but shaky breath. "And you did it in _my_ car, didn't you?"

Sam threw his jacket on the bed, his stance going defensive. "Look, it's not like I planned it. It just happened. I got hurt and she-"

"Healed you with her pussy?" Dean interrupted. 

Sam threw his hands up and sighed, heavily. "Okay, I know I messed up, Dean, but..."

"Oh, you think? You think you  _messed_ up? While I was off sticking my dick in Sophia from the Golden Girls, trying to deal with the sick urges I've had over the last three weeks, you sink into our _sister_ , who you told me was off-limits for both of us. What would Dad say?" Dean spat.

"Dean, I-"

"Gimme my goddamn keys." Sam opened his mouth but Dean interrupted with a loud, "Now!" and Sam just nodded, pulling the keys out of his jeans.

Dean snatched the keys and stomped out of the motel room as Millie walked out of the bathroom, pulling a comb through her hair. He drove with the windows down, trying to rid his car of her smell. When he made it back to the motel an hour later, Millie was sitting cross-legged in front of the door, eyes closed. When the headlights hit her face, her eyes opened and Dean's anger melted a little to see redness in the whites around her green orbs. She stood as he opened the driver's door and stepped out of his Baby. "Dean..."

"Don't. I don't wanna talk about it."

"Well, then, listen. Look, Sam left right after you did, an' he wouldn't explain what happened, but... but I know. I know why yer mad." Her voice broke as tears sprung up along her eyelashes. "I know yer disgusted in us an' we deserve it. We deserve every bit of bad, we..."

"Whoa. Slow down, Millie." Dean said, putting his hand on her cheek and wiping his thumb under her eye. "I am _not_ disgusted. I'm angry... for a lot of reasons, but mostly, Mill, I'm fuckin' jealous." Her eyes snapped up to his. "Sam got you. Sam, with his righteousness and superiority complex... the dude's idol is Ghandi, okay, and he got to have you. He's objectively a better guy and you... chose him, and I'm jealous and I'm angry because he knew how much I want you and he took you, anyway."

"I can't believe this." Millie whispered, looking down. "Dean, it's not like I'm a single-use item."

"What?"

She looked back up at him, mischief sparkling in her eyes. "Yer mad 'cause Sam played with a toy you wanted to play with and now yer actin' like you can't ever play with it, too."

"I'm mad 'cause Sam told me it was wrong for me to _want_ to play with the toy, then as soon as he was alone with the toy, he stuck his dick in it."

Millie giggled, running her hand along his shirt. "The toy _wanted_ to be played with, Dean, and just 'cause I let Sam have fun with me, doesn't mean I don't want you."

"Really?" He looked down as her hands slipped under his shirt to trace his abs. "You aren't... satisfied?"

"Only as satisfied as one could be after eatin' a slice o' pecan pie when there's a delicious cherry one sitting on the table, too."

Dean smashed his lips into hers with such force that their teeth bit into the inside of their lips. "You..." He kissed her again, his hands fumbling in his pockets for the door key as he pressed his body against hers. "...talkin' 'bout pie..." He pushed the key into the lock and twisted it, pushing the door open and her backward into the room. She pulled her shirt over her head as Dean kicked the door closed and started to shed his clothes. Dean got his boots off and tore his pants down his legs as Millie sat on the edge of their bed in just her blue thong and bra. Dean tackled her lightly to the bed as soon as he was down to his boxers. She giggled as he wrapped her in his arms and began to pepper kisses across her cheeks and jaw. "Perfect."

Dean kissed his way down her body, stopping at her bra-line to push the cups up to expose her breasts so that he could attach his mouth to her nipples. She reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, tossing it across the room as Dean continued his journey downward. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of her thong and slowly brought the underwear down her legs as he kissed past her core and down her left leg. He pulled them off her and dropped them to the floor before beginning the journey up her right leg, drawing wavy lines up the skin with his tongue. She gasped when he got to the junction where her hip met her leg and he started to suck at it. "You better put that mouth where I need it, Dean, or I'ma take things inta my own hands." Dean responded by reaching up and wrapping his hands around her wrists, holding them to her sides as he moved from her right leg to her left leg, sucking at the same junction there. She whined, helpless, as he dragged his teeth against her thigh. 

"Keep your hands off of yourself." He ordered, releasing her wrists. He used his right hand to open her lips and licked slowly up one side and down the other, avoiding the bundle of nerves she was having to force herself to keep her hands off of. He swept his tongue from side to side and relished in the moans she released into the atmosphere. He flattened his tongue and licked from her entrance to her clit, chuckling when she squealed and grasped at his head. Dean pulled away, looking up at her as he circled her entrance with the middle finger of his right hand. "You didn't let him cum in you, did you? Just askin' 'cause if I get a mouthful of Sam's spunk, I'ma be pissed." 

She giggled. "No. He came on my stomach. Think he was aimin' fer my tits but he missed."

"Yeah, that sounds like Sammy." Dean muttered, diving back in between her legs as he slipped his middle finger into her. He started drawing figure eights around and over her clit as he fucked his middle and first fingers into her quickly, but deliberately. When he began to lap at her like a thirsty dog, she lost composure, grabbing the bedsheets with one hand and tugging on Dean's hair with the other. "Make me lose my concentration, pullin' on me like that." He said, pulling away, his fingers still moving in and out of her. 

"Well, get those boxers off an' I can make you lose yer mind." 

He chuckled and pulled his boxer-briefs down his legs. He flipped over onto his back and she reached out to wrap her right hand around his length. "Millie..." She smirked as she leaned forward to lick from the base of his cock to the head. "Fuck!" She slipped her lips around him and sucked him in as far as she could. His hand slipped into her hair as she started to bob her head up and down him, her hand pumping up and down what she couldn't fit in her mouth. "Millie, get up here." He ordered, tugging lightly on his sister's hair.

She crawled up his body, coming to a stop straddling his waist, his wet cock nestled neatly against her lips. "You wanna ride or should I?"

"Oh, sweetheart. If you wanna bounce up and down on my dick, I will never stop you." She raised up on her knees and reached between them to line him up. He groaned as she slid the head up and down her slit, before pushing him in her entrance a few inches before letting him go and putting her hands on his chest as she swiveled her hips until their groins were flush with each other. Dean ran his hands up her abs and grasped her  breasts. "Oh, Hell, Millie. You are fuckin' gorgeous." 

She ground herself against him before picking herself up a bit and slamming down on him. They both groaned as she started to ride him and he started to match every movement with one of his own. "Don't just lay there, Dean. Play with my clit."

He scoffed, jerking his hips up as she came down again, as his hand moved to rest on her hip, his thumb sweeping across her clit. "Ain't just layin' here. I was enjoying the show." She threw her head back as she picked up her speed and he added more pressure with his thumb. "You are amazing. You almost there, sweetheart?" Dean asked, his breathing hard, his goal fast approaching.

"Mmm-hmm." She nodded, her eyes falling closed as her orgasm washed over her. Dean pushed her off of him with a grunt and started to run his hand rapidly up and down his cock, her juices the perfect lubrication for him to finish himself. She surged forward and closed her lips over his head just as he started to cum, taking all of his cum into her mouth before swallowing it down. She sat back, looking incredibly happy as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Well, I am plumb tuckered out. How 'bout you?"

Dean just chuckled as he wrapped his arm around her and kissed her. "Let's get some sleep, then." He pulled her down to sleep, not worrying about getting dressed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean and Millie woke to a paper bag hitting the bed. They opened their eyes and looked up at Sam, who flopped down on the other bed. "So, this is the kind of big brothers we are, huh?" He scoffed, with a smirk. "Guess Becky wasn't _completely_ wrong about us."

Dean sat up, making sure the sheets covered his lower body as he grabbed the bag and pulled a breakfast burrito out. "Guess she saw something creepy in us."

"Who's Becky?" Millie asked, not worrying about being covered as she sat up and pulled a burrito out for herself.

"Sam's number one superfan."

"Hunters have fans?"

"Nope. Just us. It's, uh, complicated." Sam answered. "There was a prophet who wrote some books about our lives. There weren't a lot of fans, but the ones he had were... rabid."

"Anyway, Becky was certain that Sam and I were bumpin' uglies behind closed doors. So... she was right that we'd be down for incest."

"Just wrong that we'd be down for _gay_ incest." Sam finished, with a smile.

Millie chuckled. "Well, I hope that prophet ain't still writing, 'cause I kinda think this is somethin' we should keep to ourselves." 

Sam and Dean exchanged a look. "Come to think of it... we haven't heard from Chuck in..."

"Since before you jumped into the Cage." Dean finished. 

"Maybe we should try to call-"

"Yeah, that'll go well. 'Hey, Chuck, we just wanted to call and see if you've had any visions of us going to town on our baby sister'." Dean rolled his eyes, leaning down to pick up his boxers from the floor. "If he ain't calling, we ain't." 

"Okay. Well, Millie and I got the wolf last night, so whenever you guys wanna move on, I'm up for it." 

"You get enough sleep, Mill?" Dean asked, slipping his boxers on before sliding off the bed and gathering the rest of his clothes from the floor. 

"Yeah. Pretty sure. I mean, I slept like the dead. Y'all put me through a real workout."

Dean and Sam smiled as she tossed her wrapper across the room into the little trashcan in the corner. "Well, gorgeous, I'm glad you're rested, 'cause you're drivin' to North Dakota."

"I am?"

"Yeah. Got a call from Jody yesterday. She heard from one of her sheriff buddies about a possible haunting in Valley City."

"Yer gonna let me drive?" She asked, excitedly.

"Well, I let you drive _me_ last night so I may as well let you drive my Baby." He smirked as she jumped up and ran for the bathroom.

"Dibs on first shower."

The brothers looked between themselves and smiled. "Well. We're terrible people." Dean said, humor in his voice.

"I think I'm okay with that, Dean." 


End file.
